


Conventional Weapons

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Vietnam, Homophobia, Journalist!Patrick, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Slurs, Swearing, Tags may be added later, Vietnam War, War, more characters may or may not be added, shy!Gerard, somewhat accurate descriptions of war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4923985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard Way had never been a particularly brave person; all his life, he had shied away from anything even remotely dangerous or out of the ordinary. In fact, he was a fucking coward. But his life is forever changed when he is drafted into the Vietnam War, and when he meets Frank Iero, the stunningly courageous boy who takes Gerard's life and flips it upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

_****_

_cow·ard_

_noun_

_a person who lacks the courage to do or endure dangerous or unpleasant things._

__

-

__

Gerard Way had never been a particularly brave person; all his life, he had shied away from anything even remotely dangerous or out of the ordinary. There had been a time, he recalled, when he had been coaxed into stealing a few candy bars by a group of boys who had claimed they were Gerard’s friends. Gerard had been eight, the other boys around twelve. They had told him how to do it, how easy it would be, but the sweat had still stuck to Gerard’s back and his hands had still been shaking and his stomach had still been twisting with nerves. Stealing was bad, it was against the rules and the thought of getting caught consumed Gerard’s mind as he had pushed open the door to the corner store.

Gerard had gotten caught, the store clerk had noticed the edge of a wrapper sticking out of the pocket of his khaki pants. Gerard would have liked to say that his eight-year-old self hadn’t cried, but as soon as the store clerk had opened his mouth, Gerard’s lip had wobbled, his hands trembled and the tears spilt down his cheeks. The store clerk had made him put the candy bars back, given Gerard the phone, and made him phone his parents and tell them what he had done. Gerard’s actions had earned him a slap in the face from his father, a stern talking to from his mother, and no dinner that night.

After the incident, the boys had no interest in befriending Gerard anymore, pushing him down in the park when he had tried to approach his “friends” a few days later. Gerard had learned a new word that day, pussy. According to the boys, Gerard was a pussy for not being able to steal candy bars. Gerard had no idea what that word meant when he heard it, but he knew it wasn’t anything good. So the eight-year-old boy had asked his older neighbour, Pete.

“It means coward,” Pete had responded, frowning.

“Oh,” Gerard didn’t know what that word meant either.

“Like, you’re scared to do things,” Pete elaborated, noticing the look of confusion on the little boy’s face.

Ten years later, Gerard was eighteen years old, and he was still a pussy.

The situation he currently resided in however, was a lot different than stealing candy bars from the corner store.

Gerard Way had been drafted into the Vietnam War. Gerard Way, the biggest coward of them all, was going to have to fight in a war.

He wasn’t going to lie, he was scared. No, he was fucking _terrified_. He had seen what was going on over in ‘Nam in the news. He had seen the bodies, he had seen the guns and the bombs.  

He was going to be a soldier, his mother had said, before he had waved goodbye to her minutes before.

Gerard Way was not a soldier.

A soldier was a fighter. A soldier was not afraid to die for their country. A soldier was _brave_.

Gerard Way was many things, but he would never be a soldier.

So Gerard sat on a bench alone, waiting for the bus that would take him to the training camp. He watched all of the other men chatting, pointedly ignoring him. They already didn’t want anything to do with him. Could they tell just by looking at him that he was a cowardly fag? Probably, Gerard thought. He must’ve looked like a real idiot, sitting there alone on the bench. He felt like an idiot, with his buzzed down hair that managed to look at least decent on everyone else but made him look like some sort of overgrown baby. Gerard couldn’t wait for his hair to grow back, he felt naked without it covering his far too round face. Gerard could no longer run his fingers through it, so his hands twitched in his lap.

Gerard took a deep breath and checked his watch. It had been a solid four minutes and he already missed his family. He had hugged Mikey for about five minutes straight, the fourteen-year-old’s muffled sobs into his shoulder breaking his heart. He was going to miss Mikey so much.

“I’ll only be gone for a year,” Gerard had said in an attempt to calm his brother down (and himself).

_Just one year_ , Gerard had thought desperately, watching his family’s car drive away.

__

Just one year.

__

-

__

Frank Iero however, was the opposite. He was past the point of brave, most would just describe him as a crazy motherfucker. His nickname was Fearless Frank, and even though that was probably the lamest nickname anyone could get, he still secretly prided himself upon it.

Ever since Frank was little, he had done crazy things. Sneaking into an (allegedly haunted) abandoned factory at night on a dare, jumping off a cliff into a lake, breaking into a mansion… If someone wanted a favour and they were too scared to do it themselves, they’d just ask Frank. Frank would just do it, without hesitation. He didn’t even know why, he understood the consequences of getting caught, but he just couldn’t really bring himself to care. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he just liked impressing people.

Needless to say, playing truth or dare with Frank was probably the best thing ever.

When Frank was drafted, he hadn’t been exactly _pleased_ , he just figured it could be worse. At least he didn’t have very many people to miss, pretty much just his mother. His father had buggered off to God Know’s Where when Frank was about two years old, and Frank didn’t have any brothers or sisters, so the only person in his life that he _really_ cared for was his mother. He didn’t have a girlfriend, he didn’t even want a girlfriend. Frank was perfectly content without a girl in his life. Girls were so _annoying_ , they said things they didn’t mean, and Frank could never keep up with their ever-changing moods.

So Frank had said goodbye to his mother, and that was pretty much it.

He had been at the bus stop for about half an hour when he noticed the old car pull up, a family getting out. A man and a woman, and two boys got out of the car. The elder boy was clad in army green, the younger boy clinging to his side like a leech. The two boys didn’t look too alike, but they had a few distinct similarities that made it obvious they were brothers. The mother and father hugged the older brother, saying their goodbyes. The mother wiped away her tears with a pink handkerchief and gave the boy a couple more hugs and kisses. The older boy turned to face his brother and wrapped his arms around him, enveloping him in a tight hug. Frank’s heart broke a little when he saw the younger brother shaking with sobs. Frank couldn’t put himself in the place of either brothers, being an only child himself. He didn’t know what it was like to have that type of relationship.

When the family finally drove off, Frank watched as the young man sat down on a bench. There was something about him that fascinated Frank. Perhaps it was his face; perfectly slanted nose, dark and prominent eyebrows, long eyelashes and pale complexion. Or maybe it was just the way he carried himself; he was different from all of the other young men waiting at the bus stop. As opposed to the confident and proud vibes radiating off the other men, he seemed scared. No, terrified. His uniform was a little bit big on him, making him look small and unthreatening (even though he was probably taller than Frank was). Whatever it was that intrigued Frank, it was enough to make him walk over and sit down next to the boy.

“Hello,” Frank greeted, sticking out his hand.

The boy, who Frank noticed looked barely eighteen, turned in his direction. His brows furrowed in slight confusion, he looked behind him, checking to see if Frank was talking to someone else.

“Uh, hi.”

He shook Frank’s hand with his own.

“My name’s Frank.”

“Gerard,” he stated, returning his hand down to his lap and staring at his fingers.

“Nice to meet you, Gerard.”

“Y-you too,” he said awkwardly.

“So, you excited?”

“N-not really,” Gerard mumbled, “I don’t really fancy getting shot. How about you?”

“I’m not really that thrilled either.”

Just then, the dreaded bus arrived. Gerard looked mortified. Frank collected his things, and waited for Gerard, who gave him an odd look when he saw Frank waiting for him. Gerard stood up and followed Frank onto the loud bus. Frank sat down in a seat around the middle of the bus, motioning a nervous looking Gerard to sit down next to him.

Gerard planted himself on the seat, and took a deep breath.


	2. Truce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know it's been a while, but I finally got around to finishing up chapter two. Just so you know, the drill sergeant says some pretty nasty things in this chapter, and all the time I was writing it I was worried that I was going a bit overboard or exaggerating but I did some research and apparently the drill sergeants were pretty awful back then, so anything that he says is probably pretty realistic. Times have obviously changed, and I don't think they're allowed to be this rude anymore, but apparently they were back then.  
> Anyways, enjoy!

The eight hour bus ride was surprisingly not the worst thing Gerard had ever experienced in his life - and he suspected that was solely because of Frank. It seemed that Frank could simply never run out of things to talk about. By about halfway, Gerard reckoned that he could probably write an essay on Frank’s life. Gerard knew all about how Frank’s father had left when he was too young to even remember, how Frank had already spent the majority of his days thrill seeking and just living life to its fullest. Gerard was in awe - Frank had done so many things that Gerard himself would never even dream of attempting.

“So what about you? What’s your story?”

“My life really isn’t that interesting,” Gerard mumbled, “I don’t have any stories about climbing up office buildings in the middle of the night or anything.”

“Well I suppose being drafted into the Vietnam War will make your life at least a little bit interesting,” Frank said dryly.

Gerard chuckled, “yeah…”

“But really, there’s gotta be something of importance in your life. You got a girl back home or something?”

“Does it look like I have a girl back home?” Gerard gestured to his face.

“I think you could, you’re pretty.”

Gerard blushed, “girls don’t want pretty; girls want handsome, dashing - you know - manly. I can barely even lift a dictionary.” Gerard chose to leave out the part about him being a cocksucking faggot, because he didn’t really want to lose Frank as a friend (even though he didn’t think Frank would care too much - considering that he had just called him pretty).

“Okay, maybe not a girl then, a boy?”

Gerard’s face flushed, “n-no. No one.”

“Okay then, what else is important to you?”

“Well, there’s my brother, Mikey.”

“What about Mikey?”

“He’s my best friend, which is kind of sad because we’re brothers, but he’s really important to me. I already miss him,” Gerard said.

“I’ve always wanted a brother, or a sister. It gets kind of lonely when it’s just my mom and I at home.”

“Well I guess you won’t be lonely here,” Gerard gestured around them.

Frank laughed a little.

There was silence for the first time since they had gotten on the bus. Gerard stared at his fingers and picked at his nails a little, while Frank just looked out of the window. Now that they weren’t talking, Gerard could focus on being terrified. Thoughts of training camp, gunshots, explosions and blood filled his mind. Before he knew it, Gerard was blurting out the words, “are you scared?”

Frank looked at him, “not really. I probably should be, but I’m just not. I can’t even explain it, but the thought of dying doesn’t exactly scare me.”

Gerard was astounded. He couldn’t comprehend how anyone could not be scared of dying.

“I don’t understand. How can you not be afraid to die?”

“I don’t know. I’m just not,” Frank sighed.

Gerard decided to leave it at that, and just stare out the window for the rest of the trip. He watched as the bus drove past farms, small towns, lakes and rivers, forests and large empty fields. His stomach lurched whenever he thought of training camp, or fighting. He heard the drill sergeants were really nasty. Gerard didn’t exactly cope too well when it came to being yelled at, but he suspected he was going to have to man up (he reckoned breaking into tears in front of the entire squadron wasn’t exactly going to give him the best reputation).

Before he knew it, they were approaching what must be the military base and Gerard could feel his heart rate quickening as the bus stopped.

“You’ll be okay,” Frank assured him, obviously having sensed his panic.

Gerard just nodded his head. The bus doors opened, and the bus driver stood up.

Gerard didn’t know what the bus driver said. He actually didn’t really hear anything, but became aware of all the men around him collecting their bags and beginning to shuffle off of the crowded bus. Frank’s nudge made him realize that he should probably move his ass, so he grabbed his bag from the metal shelf. Gerard and Frank scooted off of the bus, pressed in between the other men. When they stepped off, they were escorted into a bland looking building and from there they were taken to a large room with white floors and white walls. Bunk beds lined the walls on the left and right.

For a few minutes, everyone just stood there tensely, until the door opened behind them. Gerard turned around along with everyone else, and was faced with a tall, important looking man clad in a decorated army uniform, leather boots and a campaign hat. Gerard would have laughed, it was a pretty stupid looking hat, but the look on the guy’s face suggested that he was not the type of person you wanted to be laughing at. He stepped forward and Gerard saw the glint of a badge. It read _SERGEANT NATHANS_ in a font that made him look even more important.

“Welcome,” he spoke in a deep voice with a strong southern accent.

No one responded, Gerard shifted uncomfortably.

“For the next four months, this will be your home. You will pick a partner. Choose wisely, because that person is going to be your bunk mate, and the person you spend about eighty percent of your time with,” he looked around expectantly, “do it!”

Gerard jumped and looked over to where Frank was standing. Gerard suddenly had a flashback to grade school when they would pick partners for gym class; Frank raised his eyebrows at Gerard and Gerard nodded his head at him, and just like that, Gerard had found himself a bunk mate.

Frank and Gerard walked over to their bunk bed, which was near the end of the room. Gerard set his small bag down on the bottom bunk, while Frank did the same on the top.  

“Listen up!”

Gerard jumped and looked over to the middle of the room where Sergeant Nathans was standing.

“My name is Sergeant Nathans, but you will call me Sir. You will never talk back to me, and you will do everything I tell you to do without question,” he glanced around the room, “isn’t that right?” He was suddenly facing a short, scrawny looking boy who looked even smaller with the Sergeant’s tall, menacing frame towering over him.

“Yes,” they boy squeaked.

“Yes _who_?”

“Yes, sir!”

The Sergeant just looked at him expectantly.

“Sir yes, sir!”

“That’s fucking better! What’s your name?”

“Sir, Private Medina, sir!”

“Alright! Starting with Private Medina here, I’m going to go around the room and learn the names of all you maggots,” he shouted.

Sergeant Nathans moved on to the man next to Private Medina, who was a lot taller and had a little bit of muscle. That being said, Sergeant Nathans still spoke to him like he was a pile of shit. As the Sergeant moved around the room, Gerard became increasingly more apprehensive. Sergeant Nathans had yelled at a guy and called him a pansy for having a slightly higher voice than most guys, and Gerard, whose voice was higher than his and far more nasally was silently freaking out.

When Gerard was actually face to face with the Sergeant, he was even more intimidating. Gerard was looking up at perhaps the angriest face he had ever seen, trying not to shake.

“And who are _you_?”

Up until now, Gerard had never thought that the word ‘you’ could be spoken so condescendingly. Sergeant Nathans had proved him wrong.

“Sir, Private Way, sir!”

Gerard was proud of the fact that he had managed to get that sentence out without stuttering or maybe starting to cry a little.

Sergeant Nathans stepped back a little, “Private Way, huh?”

Gerard gulped.

“You sound like a fag, Private Way. Look like one, too.”

What was Gerard even supposed to say to that? Not knowing what to do, Gerard nodded his head.

“See that nod everyone? Private Way over here just admitted to being a fag. Make sure you cover yourselves up while changing if you don’t want this fairy checking you out.”

Gerard smacked himself in his head. Why did he nod? In what world could that have possibly been anything but a bad idea? Why did he have to be so stupid?

“You like sucking cock, Way?”

“Sir, no, sir!”

“Bullshit! I can tell just by looking at you how much you like sucking dick. Bet it’s the only thing you’re good at.”

“Sir, no, sir,” Gerard said quietly.

“I can’t hear you! Has your voice gone hoarse from all that deep throating?”

“Sir, no, sir!” Gerard yelled this time.

Evidently, that was satisfactory, because Sergeant Nathans was already stepping away from Gerard and turning his attention towards Frank. He didn’t pay too much attention to Frank, just learnt his name and asked him why the fuck he was so short. Gerard tuned out the rest of Sergeant Nathans’ conversations and took to staring at the ground. How was he going to last 12 weeks of this?

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an idea that I had been tossing around in my head for several months now. It first came to me when I was listening to the song "The Light Behind Your Eyes" which is kind of where I got the title. I have most of the story planned out already, and I'm super excited about it. I'll try to update this on a fairly regular basis (while keeping up with my other stories). I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!


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